


Pigtails

by thedarkmoon



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkmoon/pseuds/thedarkmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Th one in which Louis acts far too mature for his age, and Matty denies that he knows whats going on with his parents.<br/>***<br/>(I wrote this as a fic for a friend, and its only rated T because there's some swears.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pigtails

**Author's Note:**

> Now. Before you start reading, and end up leaving me a nasty comment, I want to apologize. I did not research timelines, and still have not. This is a shamless fic that I wrote for my own enjoyment, and the enjoyment of a close friend of mine, and we decided to share it with you, m dear reader. See end for further disclaimer. 
> 
> *** NOTE: If you found this, either by searching your name, a name of a family member, or the name of a friend, BACK OUT NOW. You are not part of the intended audience, and the author would appreciate not being part of the demise of your sanity. Thank you!***

Matty had been home all of four hours when the slamming started. At first, it was just his mum, downstairs in the kitchen, slamming cupboards like she used to when they were small and hadn’t helped clear the table. He was doing a load of laundry when he notice Lou slinking towards the outside door of the house and disappear, shutting the door oh so quietly behind him. Matty had brushed it off, and put earphones on.

But by ten o clock his father had joined in the noise, slamming a door every once in awhile as he moved about the house, almost always followed by another door slamming, done by his mother. Lou still hadn’t returned.

***

The outside weather wasn’t too cold, but Matty had shrugged on a jacket anyways, and put sunglasses on over his eyes as he walked around the neighborhood, looking for his brother. He was only ten, and Matty couldn’t believe his parents had let him just walk outside by himself, no one watching him. It was dark outside, and he had no clue of the first place to look, except for the park that they used to frequent before Matty’s band had gotten big, back when he used to spend days watching his brother, and nights writing with the lads and partying.

The park looked deserted, the leaves of the tree’s blowing softly in a soothing shushing sound. The lone lamp on the corner of the park illuminated the playground, and a lone figure on the swings. As he got closer, Matty could hear his brothers trainers scuffing against the rocks in a sporadic pattern, almost as if he lacked the will to actually push himself off and actually swing.

“Louis?” Matty kept his voice soft, not wanting to scare the boy.

Louis turned at the sound, then ducked quickly back around, wiping his face of the sleeve of his jumper before bowing his head. He got off the swing and shuffled over to where Matty was standing, not meeting his eyes, and said in a quiet voice, “I don’t want to go home, Matty.”

Matty swallowed hard, and put his arm around Louis’s shoulders. “We have to, at some point. But not yet, I guess. Let’s go get some ice cream, yeah?”

Lou buried his face in Matty's chest for a moment before nodding, letting him lead him away from the park.

***

When they returned home, there was more color in Louis’s cheeks, and the house was quiet. Matty wondered if it had just been a bad week; that his parents were jut experiencing one of those seven year itches or whatever, even though it was way past seven years of marriage. Matty tucked Lou into bed, and stayed in his room until he fell asleep, watching as his brother changed from the worried little thing that he’s been watching into the boy he remembered, carefree and happy.

In his room, Matty shucked of his jeans and hoodie, crawling into his bed in the tshirt that Louis didn’t let go of until they were home. His mind wouldn’t quiet about what it all could mean, and he saw the beginnings of dawn before he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Louis rarely called him on tour, despite having his own mobile before Matty even dreamt of asking his parents for one. But seeing the name on the screen on his phone gave Matty pause, and as he walked out of the room to answer it, he waved off George, who had made to follow him. Whatever the phone call was about, it was for Matty’s ears alone.

“Lou?” He said, leaning against a wall in the back of the small venue, “What's wrong?”

“I-“ Matty heard Lou’s voice break, “I know I never ring you yeah? But. I-I just really wanted to hear your voice.”

“Is something wrong?” Matty could hear the shake in Lou’s voice, and he immediately went to all the dark places he’d imagined over the years since Louis’s birth; kidnapping and child molesters or the dark backs of vans that sometimes lured little boys to their doom.

“I’m f-fine. I just……..wish you were here. Mum and dad………they’ve been yelling a lot more.” The clench in his chest loosened a fraction, knowing that Lou was at home. Nothing could hurt them if he was at home.

“It's gonna be ok, Lou,” Matty told him, being as gentle as possible, “Parents fight. They don’t mean anything by it. They still love each other, I promise.” But promises meant little to his brother when he was halfway across the world. Matty stayed on the phone with him until it was time for their set, reluctantly saying goodbye, because despite his assurances, he wasn’t so sure everything was going to be ok anymore.

***

The next time Matty was at home was Christmas. It was going to be a quiet affair this year, his mother was allowing his grandmother to cook dinner at her house instead of insisting on doing it herself. It felt weird, because even though it was still the holiday season, the only decoration his mother had done was hang up the wreath on the front door. There wasn’t even a Christmas tree.

On the twentieth, Matty was in the kitchen when his mother walked in, looking as though sleep had not left her in a better state than the night before. Once she was seated at the table with a cup of tea, Matty decided to approach the subject of the tree.

“Mum?” Matty waited patiently until she looked at him with blinking eyes before continuing, “I was wondering if you would mind, but I noticed that you hadn’t put up the tree. I thought I could take Lou into town today and buy one.”

Denise squinted, then shrugged, staring forlornly into her tea. “Do what you want. You’re old enough now.”

Matty took that as the best blessing he was going to get, and went upstairs to collect his brother. Even if he had to do it all himself, he was going to make sure this would be a Christmas Louis wouldn’t forget.

***

Matty needn’t have worried, his parents happily helped him to make the holiday one that would stick forever in both of the boys minds. Christmas eve had passed without incident, and opening presents had gone over decently that morning. His parents had even gotten each other gifts. Louis was happy, and Matty felt content because his family was happy.

But things all started to go to shit when they went to an aunts house for dinner. Dinner was lovely, and family was the family it had always been. But there was tension thrumming like an undercurrent, and it seemed to stem from his parents. There were short exchanges, and clipped responses, and Matty could feel the judgment of everyone in the house, and it fell squarely on his shoulders.

Matty ushered his family out as quickly as politeness would allow, breathing easier the more miles they put between themselves and the rest of the family. There was something he was missing, and maybe Louis could explain what had been going on while he was out in the world.

At home, Matty followed Louis up to his room, and closed the door behind them, fully intent on talking through things with him when the shouting started. Lou shook his head, laying down on the bed, and covering his face with a pillow. Matty poked his head out the door, the worlds finally becoming audible.

“You think this is all my fault, then? That you have no responsibility in this at all?”

“Oh yes, that’s all I ever do. Blame you for every bloody thing! Maybe if you stopped thinking about yourself, we could fix a thing or two.”

“You're the one who always insists on having a row every damn night.”

Matty couldn’t believe his ears, and crept to the landing, peeking down through the banisters like a naughty child, watching his parents scream at each other for several moments. He realized with a jolt that this was why Lou had been calling him, and he wondered as he crept back to his brothers rooms, just how many times his brother had done the very thing he was doing now.

Reaching his brothers rooms, Matty slipped inside, sitting on the bed beside his brother and pulled the pillow off his face. He smiled at him, thought it felt fake, and whispered to him, “Let's go grab ice cream, ok?”

Louis nodded and hopped off the bed, shoving his feet into his trainers without socks and pulled on a woolen hat, leading Matty downstairs and into the cold winter night.

***

As they sat in the booth of a coffee shop, sipping hot chocolate because no one who sold ice cream was open at this hour, Louis began telling Matty about the sleepless nights he’d spent wandering the streets, avoiding their parents rows, hiding from winos and kind people alike, hoping just to go unnoticed as possible. It made Matty feel sick, that he’d left his brother, that he was supposed to leave him in two days again.

“I’m going to quit the band.” Matty interjecting quietly, cutting Lou off from continuing a pretty impressive imitation of one of the rows. Lou just stared at him for several moments, gaping mouth open, the stain of whipped cream on his upper lip.

“Matty, no.” Lou said, struggling for the words. “You can’t. I heard what you told mum. You got signed and all this brilliant stuff. You can’t.”

“Lou.” Matty reached across the table, grabbing one of Louis’s cold hands, wrapping it in both of his. “I’m not leaving you here to face that alone. You should have bloody well told me before now. I would’ve been home in an instant, I should’ve been home. You need someone to watch you.”

“Matty………” Matty watched Louis, watched him swallow hard. “I want you home more than anything. But I want you to be happy more than that. You’re always trying so hard to make everyone else happy, you made this Christmas the best for me. Please. Don’t ruin your happiness for me.”

“Lou-“ Matty started, but Louis just shook his head.

“You’re gonna go. And you’re gonna make me proud.”

***

Matty had trouble sleeping again that night, rolling over the predicament in his head again and again. He couldn’t leave Lou alone, who would watch him, make sure he was safe and not going out at night to escape the rows? But Lou was also correct in saying he had commitments, that he couldn’t just up and leave the band.

Instead of sleep, Matty got up and padded down to the lounge, opening up the piano that rarely got used now that he was on the road, and began to pluck out a tune.

***

“I heard you up at the piano last night.” Matty pulled his head up off the table, seeing his mother dressed in dress slacks and a fancy blouse, the kind she only wore to work. He vaguely wondered if that meant if she was leaving or returning, and scrubbed at his face, feeling the ink from the paper he’d fell asleep on sticky on his face.

“Yeah?” He muttered, almost adding a bit about the row, but biting his tongue. There was no use in _him_ having a row with her too.

“Woke up your father, he’s taken to sleeping in the guest room on the main floor.” Matty said nothing, watching his mother as she took a seat at the table beside him, resting her head on his arm. “Matty, we should talk about what happened last night-“

“I’ve gathered what's been going on,” he said, using more force than was necessary. He tried to be gentler. “Mum, it’s ok. I’m just worried about Louis. He-he can’t stand to see you and dad like this.”

“I know sweetheart.” She raised her head, and he saw the tears in her eyes. “I try to always stay up and make sure he makes it home. Threes been nights………..nights when I thought I’d have to go and find him, or that he wouldn’t come home until the first light, and I’d worry instead of getting my son back home, there’d be a body……………Tim and I are working on it, I promise.”

“Alright mum.” Matty whispered, pulling her into a hug, feeling her tears against his shoulder.

After a few moments, Denise pulled back and wiped her tears away with shaking fingers. “I should have called you. But between the record deals, and your tours, and all that’s been going right for you, I couldn’t.”

“Mum-“ Matty started, but she didn’t let him finish.

“Listen to me. I mean to tell you.” She drew in a deep breath. “Your father and I are going to sell the house, and go our separate ways.”

Matty felt it deep in his chest, like something was trying to force its way out. His mother wouldn’t look at him, and after a moment, Matty found it hard to look at her.

***

Louis was sitting in Matty’s room, playing some hand held video game on silent, stealing glances at his brother as he messed around with his guitar. Matty noticed every once in awhile, and noticed the way that Louis kept looking at him then away. He decided to wait him out, let him decide if whatever was on his mind was worth it or not.

“Matty?” Lou finally set his game aside, folding his legs close to his body while he waited for his brother to acknowledge him.

“Yeah?” Matty was still staring at his lyric pad, and Lou cleared his throat, causing him to look up. “What’s up?”

“Remember when your hair was longer, and sometimes you’d let mum braid it?” It all came out in a rush, and Lou flushed, and took a breath before continuing, “But I’m shit at braiding, and I know it’s usually a girly thing, but can I muck around with your hair?” He squeezed his legs tighter to his chest after he was done, resting his chin on his kneecaps, waiting anxiously for Matty to respond.

Matty blinked several times, then laughed. He set his guitar on his bed before sitting down in front of Louis, tilting his head back. “Sure. Just don’t tear it out, yeah? ‘M getting old, and it doesn’t grow so well anymore.”

“You’re not old.” Lou assured him, tentatively threading his fingers through Matty’s hair, playing with the long locks, stroking the shaven sides. Matty hummed a little under his breath, reacting like a cat under Louis’s ministrations.

“What did ya want to do with it now?” Matty asked quietly, eyes shut as Louis’s fingers slipped through his hair. He felt his brother shift a bit away from him, grabbing something off to the right.

“Gonna style it.” Louis’s reply was slightly garbled, and Matty almost glanced back to see what Lou had put in his mouth, but then the fingers were back, parting his hair down the middle, and Matty couldn’t bring himself to care.

Ten minutes later, Lou was dragging Matty to the bathroom, insisting that he show him what he’d done to his hair instead of letting Matty take a picture of it. Louis thought that the reveal would be more dramatic, though the shit eating grin he had on his face told Matty it probably wasn’t something he’d wear on tour.

“Oh my God. What have you done to my hair?” Matty asked once he caught sight of himself in the mirror, bursting out laughing as Lou flushed.

“You like it?” Lou was still wear his shit eating grin and was biting back his own laughter.

“God, mate. Its brilliant.” Matty leaned up to touch the pigtails that Louis had manage to coax his hair into, and started laughing again, picking up his brother and taking him out into the hall. “I love them.”

“Good.” Louis leaned in to press a kiss to Matty’s cheek.

“I love you.” Matty kissed Louis’s nose. “Don’t you ever forget that now, alright?”

“Alright. I love you too.” Louis’s grin was wider than Matty had seen it in _months_ and he couldn’t stop smiling himself.

***

The next day, Denise drove Matty to the airport. The car was quiet, and Louis seemed subdued, but had insisted in coming to see his brother off. The skies were gray, and Matty felt it was appropriate, as if the weather was mourning his going as much as his family was.  He almost wished he’d called George, or their manager, called the tour off, stayed home to keep Louis safe.

AS the airport drew closer, Matty felt the panic rising up in his chest. Who would watch Louis, make sure he was safe, no matter what happened? He was only a kid, smart though he may be, Matty knew only too well what the world did to kids like him. Getting out of the car was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Saying goodbye nearly ripped out his heart.

“Wait!” Matty was just about to walk through the doors, and turned around to watch Louis run towards him, something clutched in his hand. He waited patiently for his brother to reach him before pulling him into a hug, breathing in his hair. He so wanted to take his brother with him, wrap him up safe in his arms, and make sure everything was going to be alright.

“I have something for you.” Louis’s voice was muffled against the thick fabric of Matty’s jacket. Louis pulled back, thrusting something wrapped in packing paper in his brothers hand before going back in, hugging his brother tight. “Don’t open it until you’re on the plane. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Matty held on as tight as he could.

They stood like that for several moments until Matty heard someone clear their voice behind him. He glanced back to find George, standing awkwardly with his hands shoved in his pockets. He regretfully let go of Louis, thrusting the package into his pocket.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?”Matty asked, ruffling his brothers hair.

“Yeah. Real soon.” Louis walked back over to their mother, casting one last look back before resolutely climbing into the car.

“Let's get a move on then.” Matty didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was wiping tears from his eyes.

***

It was quiet on the plane, a rarity for a commercial flight like the one they were on now. Matty had been on hundreds of these in the past year, and he couldn’t think of a single time when the only thing one could hear was the soft breathing of sleeping people and the rustling of those who were trying to find peace in a book. Matty himself had been trying to keep it together, read the damned book he’d started before he went home, but he couldn’t focus on the words. The little package in the pocket of his jacket called to him, and finally, he decided to open it.

Pulling the jacket out from underneath George, who’d fallen asleep almost as soon as the plane took off, took an extra bit of care and time, but finally he was able to reach into the pocket and draw out Louis’s gift. Whatever it was had made it past both customs and security, and was about four inches in length, and three in width. With shaking fingers, he slowly pulled off the paper covering the item, letting it slide into his hands.

It was a dark picture frame, stained black. Matty had opened it upside down, so instead of seeing the picture, he saw the back of the frame. On it was written:

                _Matty and Louis, our last memory of the house._

The picture itself was black and white, taken with a surprisingly steady hand. Most of the foreground was filled with Louis’s face, and Matty peeked over the top, his hair still in the wild pigtails. Matty leaned back against the seat and let the tears fall, not caring who saw.

***

Matty always poured his heart out in his songs. He left everything onstage, bared his soul for the screaming fans that flocked to his band’s concerts. He’s only gone over the song with the boys a few times and they told him he had to put it on the album, that it was brilliant, that the fans would love it. And love it they did.

Sitting alone at the piano, with the bright lights of the stage, Matty could barely make out the shapes of his mother and brother standing side stage, watching him. He knew they were there, though, and that’s all that mattered. Not the crowd, and the obnoxious way they were acting, not the security guard who had an arm around Louis’s shoulders, not even the rest of the band. This song was for Louis.

It hurt so much to release it into the night, hurt so much as if it was finally making the last few months of turmoil real rather than some story that he was reading. He couldn’t see Louis anymore, there were tears in his eyes that made even seeing the piano’s keys hard. Matty wiped his eyes and kept playing. It was his all. And he was going to give it everything. Even if it left him open and raw.

Louis had wanted him to be in the band. Matty kept him close, even if he was far away. They would work it out, no matter what separated them.

 

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Further Disclaimer: To my knowledge, the only events that actually took place are the divorce and the concert that I reference in the end. The rest of the timeline and events were manipulated and made up for my use in the plotline. The songs that I reference Matty writing and playing are Me and Is there Someone who can Watch You. Both are brilliant songs, and I highly suggest watching them live.  
> Concert referenced at the end: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Igdn5LBW0Q
> 
> I seriously hope you enjoyed it, and leave me some feedback if you are so inclined.


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